Fantum 3: Bullets 4 Love
by Mr. Grool
Summary: The third story in the Phantom of the Opera musical trilogy, We tell a tale of love, loss, and revenge. Younger viewers may want to avert their eyes as I show you all what I believe the second sequel will be like. Get ready for a wild ride that shows a side of the Angel of Music you'll never forget.
1. Teh Barum Braul

The patrons of the nightclub laughed and joked over the piano music filling the room. Everyone, ranging from fine, young gentlemen to scantily-clad flappers were having a good time, listening to the beautiful, melodic piano music. The music drifted through the crowd, causing heads to turn with its beautiful melody. All conversation in the bar was of this fabulous music playing, with everyone sending compliments to the pianist.

This particular pianist, or in this case, pianists, were two elegantly dressed men. Though you could tragically not see their faces from this viewing angle as their backs were to you, both of them had brilliant wavy black hair, one being a teenager and the other an adult. Both of them were at the top of their health and obviously knew how to play their instrument better than Beethoven and Mozart combined. Dressed in matching tuxedos and capes, they played the keys with astounding grace and dexterity. Though, of course, these two have nothing to do with the story and obviously have no reason to be described so fully.

What was the real center of attention were three men, all dressed in white tuxedos and white fedoras, conversing with four other men with black suits on and grey fedoras. Three of the four grey men held machine guns in their hands and the fourth carried a briefcase.

"Did you bring the stuff?" the man with the briefcase asked the leader of the white-suit men. Said leader nodded in reply.

"You bet your ass we did," he said, holding out a green bottle without a label. The briefcase man took the bottle and examined it closely, causing the white-suit men to tense up. The briefcase man handed the bottle to one of his cohorts, who immediately broke it across one of the tables next to them, causing a loud crash. Of course, no one else could hear the crash over the voluptuous melody of the piano, but that was beside the point. The three grey men raised their machine guns at the white-suited men, who put their hands in the air immediately. The briefcase guy's face contorted with anger as he grabbed the leader of the other group by the shirt collar.

"You said that you'd bring vodka, not seltzer water!" he growled, causing the white suited man to recoil at his bad breath.

"Sorry, it must've slipped my mind," the white-suited man said, his face still relaxed. The briefcase guy dropped his luggage bag and grabbed a knife from his pocket, holding it up to his hostage's throat.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to jog your memory, won't I?" he threatened the white-suited man before swinging back his arm to strike. With that, however, one of the white-suited cohorts put his fingers to his lips and whistled, causing the beautiful, melodic, hypnotic music to end.

Everyone in the nightclub looked around in curiosity as to why the intoxicating piano music stopped and found that both of the pianists were standing up, both of the wielding Tommy-guns. You could now see the sexy men's faces and clearly see the mask on the older man's face. (lol I tricked you guys earlier!) The mask seemed to only enhance his handsome features and caused multiple women to faint on the spot.

The two gorgeous men opened fire on the black-suited group while the white men ducked, allowing the bullets to pass over them. Two of the grey-fedora men fell to the ground, riddled with bullets while the briefcase guy and the last man ducked behind the tables near them. The black-suited man with the other machine gun opened fire on the two pianists, who ducked behind the same table, causing the piano behind them to get blown apart by the fire. At this point the club patrons were all panicking, with several casualties made in the crowd. But we don't care about them so let's go back to the two gorgeous pianists currently firing their Tommy-guns at the remaining grey-fedora men. The briefcase guy had now pulled out his own pistol and began firing it at the teenage pianist.

"Gustave, look out!" the older one yelled, pushing his partner out of the line of fire. This, of course, left him exposed to the bullets and the briefcase-guy fired his pistol straight at the man. However, with amazing reflexes and agility, the man stuck his fist out at the incoming bullet and seemed to cause it to change its course to the left. Upon further inspection it had seemed to be knocked to the side by the diamond ring he was wearing. The masked man then thrust his hand under his cape and pulled out a rose and a pistol of his own. Putting the rose in his mouth and the pistol in his other hand, the man jumped over a fallen table and began firing both weapons, dodging the incoming fire by the other two men.

"Such grace!" the briefcase man exclaimed as his cohort was shot down by the Tommy-gun. Before he knew it he was knocked to the ground by the masked man and had a pistol aimed at his face.

"Please, sir, have mercy!" the briefcase man exclaimed to his assailant. "I'm just trying to make a living in this time of Prohibition!"

The masked man stared at him, emotionless. Only one eye was visible behind the white mask that covered his handsome face as he spit the rose in his mouth onto the man before throwing down the Tommy-gun. Then, the pianist slipped his hand under his cape on more time, never taking the pistol off of the other's face. In his hands was a pair of sunglasses.

"I'm sorry," the masked phantom said, putting the sunglasses _over his mask._ "But I'm going to have to _prohibit_ your life privileges."

 _ ***Bang***_


	2. Teh Darknis Aproachis

The dinner hall was filled with noise as the large group of men dug into their meals. Waiters passed around different trays of food so that everyone could get a taste of the various delicacies that were being served at the rectangular table. Unfortunately there was no piano music playing, as the two men from the last chapter were sitting at the head of the table along with the host of the party. The two pianists wore the same suit and cape from the nightclub, though they were both cleaned of dust and dirt (but no blood, since they never got injured). Both of them looked as handsome as ever, but the older one still kept his mask on his face, though the sunglasses were back in his pocket. The host of the party, though much less captivating than the men sitting next to him, still had some small claim to fame. Al Capone stood up and tapped his glass, signaling the gangsters to stop their noise.

"I'd like to thank everyone for another successful transfer," the head honcho called to everyone before slamming a familiar briefcase on the table. "We have managed to make another 50,000 dollars with no cost to ourselves or anyone else. And it's all thanks to my guests of honor, The Phantom himself as well as his assistant, The Ghoul." The room was still filled with applause, save for one man halfway down the table, who stood up.

"But sir," he inquired. "Haven't we just killed four more men of the same rival gang this week? Adding that to the six that we knifed back in-"

"You shut your mouth!" Al Capone yelled across the table, his Brooklyn accent obvious before the mob boss grabbed a baseball bat by his chair and threw it down the table. The bat hit the standing gangster square in the head, knocking him out instantly. Al Capone resumed his congratulations by proposing a toast in honor of the two guests. The entire table raised their glasses before going back to their meals.

* * *

"I gotta tell ya, you're something else, Phantom!" Al Capone said to the man known as The Phantom as they walked through the hallway of a five-star hotel. "With you around, I'm makin' twice as much money as I was before. Where did you say you were from, again?" This question caused The Phantom's masked face to darken.

"I come from a land where pain and suffering were wrought upon me daily, and the only saving grace that helped me through the nightmare was wrenched away from me not once, but twice," he whispered. "I come from a land that wouldn't accept me for who I am, forcing me to live among the rats in exile because no one could stand to look at a young boy who only wanted to be the same as everyone else. That, is where I lived," Al Capone's face slowly but surely turned into a deadpan expression as The Phantom gave his monologue.

"So… Where did you live, exactly?" Capone asked The Phantom once again.

"Oh, under a Paris Opera House. Then I moved to Long Island." The masked man answered simply, causing Al Capone to sigh and hastily retire to his room.

The Phantom continued down the hallway, thinking about all of the tragic things that obviously justified his murders before the lights suddenly went out. The Phantom looked around in confusion before a small, but bright light appeared before him. He stared in wonder as the sphere of light grew and took shape, eventually forming a beautiful woman in front of him.

"Christine!" The Phantom said in amazement. The ghostly figure of his long lost love gave a small smile at the Phantom. Memories of all of the time they spent together flooded back to them, like that time when Christine was unfaithful to her husband on her wedding day, and, um, that time when they sang together even though Christine was technically hypnotized at that point... Er, and that time when the Phantom kidnapped her and threatened to kill her fiancé… Regardless, they both remembered those times.

"Erik," Christine said in a ghostly voice, as Erik was The Phantom's name and anyone who doesn't know that obviously isn't a true fan. "I have come to give you a message."

"But I thought that you died, sweet Christine!" The Phantom exclaimed to the ghostly woman. Christine smiled and touched the Phantom's unmasked cheek.

"I did," she said. "But I have been resurrected as the Angel of Music," Erik (who is The Phantom and you should know this) smiled and nodded his head.

"I always knew you were the true Angel of Music," he said knowingly, ignoring the inconsistent logic of why a higher power would make a woman that, oh, I don't know, was unfaithful on her wedding day the Angel of Music.

"Yes, my love," Christine confirmed. "But I have come to give you a warning. Our entire world is in grave danger, and you are the only one that can stop the approaching darkness. You see, the man you know of as Raoul has taken over a large nation in Europe and plans on taking over the entire world!"

Erik scowled at the mention of Raoul. The despicable man had the audacity to take Christine away from him, the Phantom who had murdered multiple people, and tried to marry Christine only for the reason that they were childhood sweethearts. Thankfully The Phantom won Christine back in Long Island after learning that hers and Raoul's child, Gustave, was actually his. If things didn't go so wrong afterwards Christine would still be alive and married to the talented, gentle and murderous Phantom.

It wasn't surprising to Erik that Raoul, being so obviously a despicable man, would try and take over the world if he got a position of power. And if it was up to The Phantom to stop him, that was exactly what he was going to do.

"Wherever he is, I will defeat him, my love," The Phantom said to the ghost of Christine, who nodded and kissed Erik on the cheek.

"I believe in you, Erik. Raoul has changed his identity in an attempt to fool you, but it is in vain." Christine began to slowly disappear. "Remember, Erik, I will always be with you."

* * *

The Phantom rushed into his hotel room, startling his son, Gustave, who was reading a newspaper. He rushed to his son and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking Gustave as he talked.

"My son," he said. "I have been visited by my love, Christine, and she has given us an important mission!" He finally put his son down and let him fall to the floor while he tried to get his bearings.

"Wait a minute," Gustave asked. "Mom talked to you? Did she say anything about me?" Erik shook his head.

"That doesn't matter now. Christine had told me that your stepfather, Raoul, has risen to a position of power and plans to take over the entire world! He's changed his identity in order to evade me, but there must be some sort of sign telling me who he is!" Gustave looked at his father in horror.

"Oh no, not that despicable man!" Gustave cried, despite the fact that he had thought that Raoul was his father for most of his life. "If he's changed his identity, how will we ever know who he is?!"

It was then that Erik saw it. On the newspaper, a picture showed a man at a podium. He wore a stiff uniform and had his hair combed to the side. His mustache looked only like a small rectangle and his hand was raised in the air while thousands followed his gesture. But Erik could never mistake the eyes of pure evil. Those eyes that mocked him as he took away his love. Above the picture was a caption, explaining the picture.

 **"Adolf Hitler Invades Poland"**


End file.
